


Always look behind you

by AlpineFresh



Series: Post apocalypse (no zombies) AU [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (and some mutated people), (no zombies), Angst, Bad gets to be a hardcore muffin, Fluff, Gen, Guns, Minor Violence, Mutated Animals, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlpineFresh/pseuds/AlpineFresh
Summary: Towering skyscrapers blocked out the skyline, this was a harsh world of kill or be killed. If mutated animals didn't get to you first, a couple of sadistic humans would come along to put a bullet, or two, or twenty, in you.If there's one thing Tommy's learned about living on your own, it's that you always check over your shoulder. Carelessness is a dead mans way of thinking...Tommy should have been dead.
Series: Post apocalypse (no zombies) AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996882
Comments: 24
Kudos: 224





	Always look behind you

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my goodness. It's been, what, two months in the making now? Something along those lines.
> 
> This fucker was supposed to be a normal 1-3k word fic to write some more sbi family dynamic au. But then some characters showed up and threw a wrench, followed by a chainsaw into my original plans. So now it's a little under 10k.
> 
> That aside, I'm honestly super proud of myself. I don't usually stay dedicated to a single idea long enough to write anything longer than a few pages in the google doc. And sure, I had a lot of trouble writing this, and my motivation was slower than I would have liked- but I fucking did it.
> 
> So I'd just like to give a quick thanks to everybody who's ever commented on my fics, it really helped to boost my motivation levels while writing this. So I probably wouldn't have been able to finish this without you guys :)
> 
> TW: Blood, Violence, Guns, Knives/Swords, animal death, a gang(?),
> 
> Enjoy the show.

Towering skyscrapers blocked out the skyline, some in nearly perfect condition, though most were just barely being held together by crumbling concrete. Stubborn weeds poked out through the cracked roads and sidewalks, adding a sense of life to the otherwise desolate cityscape.

Tommy stuck close to the shadows as he walked, eyes alert for even the slightest hint of movement. He wasn’t sure he would ever really get used to having to look over his shoulder so frequently to avoid being followed, much less walking in complete silence.

He gripped his backpack straps tightly, readjusting its position in an attempt to save his shoulders some pain. He got surprisingly lucky with his raids, multiple boxes of uncooked pasta and at least twenty protein bars that got missed by previous raiders thanks to being underneath fallen drywall. As amazing a find as it was, those, combined with the several bottles of water in his bag resulted in a lot more weight than he was used to carrying.

It felt like just yesterday that he was running around with his friends, happily causing mayhem and mischief wherever they went. But it wasn’t yesterday, it was three years ago. Three years since he last saw his friends… Three years since he last saw his family.

The teen sighed, it wouldn’t do him any good to dwell on the past like that. He had other things to worry about, like the approaching sound of footsteps and casual conversation between a group.

Tommy ducked behind a partially destroyed car on instinct, hoping he hadn’t been spotted. He held his breath and listened closely, gripping the dull knife at his side in a death grip.

“-My god Techno, that was way too fucking risky. I can’t believe we just took on an _entire_ camp of stacked raiders and got away with it- Phil, how the _fuck_ are we still alive?” A man’s voice asked incredulously.

They fought an entire camp of people? It only sounded like a few pairs of footsteps, how strong were they?

Wait- did he say Techno? As in Technoblade? Tommy’s heart rate skyrocketed, the need to stay hidden increasing tenfold. He was lucky enough to have never encountered the man before, but he overheard rumors of the Blade taking on groups of over twenty people all by himself and coming out on top without so much as a scratch.

A light chuckle rang out, “Don’t worry so much mate, we wouldn’t have gone into that if we didn’t have a plan.”

“Besides, they obviously had no idea how to use any of their equipment. I mean, did you see the rust on those knives? And their guns looked like they haven’t been cleaned in months, they were more likely to hurt themselves then us,” A deeper voice added on.

Tommy had to fight the growing curiosity begging him to peek over the crumpled hood of the car to get a look at them. He wanted so desperately to know what the supposedly all powerful Technoblade looked like. The only consistent detail he ever heard about the man was long pink hair, but even then, it didn’t really sound that intimidating.

So Tommy sat still, heart thumping so loudly in his chest that he wouldn’t be surprised if the group heard it. He stayed there until long after their footsteps and casual chatter faded off into the distance, finally exhaling a sigh of relief when he deemed it safe enough to stand.

He clipped the knife back onto his belt and shifted the weight of his backpack once again before he began to walk. He didn’t want to be in the city for any longer than necessary, they only ever brought trouble. Too many groups in search of supplies, he was pretty sure he bumped into a turf war one time as well.

Then again, it wasn’t like being in the forest was any better. The best thing he could do was find a highway to follow out of the city. And then of course hope there weren’t any groups blockading the area.

\---

The hair on the back of Tommy’s neck stood on end, holding the knife he's never properly learned how to use out in front of him with trembling hands. He fucked up, he fucked up _big time_. He wasn’t careful enough, didn’t check over his shoulder frequently enough.

And now he was backed up in an alleyway with a group of six people donning coloured bandanas around their necks and armed with various weapons, including, but not limited to, guns and knives. A young man with unruly ginger hair and a pristine silver dagger stepped forward, “Hand over the bag and live, or refuse and I put this here knife in your gut,” he threatened

No- he can’t give this up, it’s all he has left! “Hey, how about we negotiate? I give you _half_ of my supplies and you all let me go?” Tommy attempted to bargain.

The man twirled the dagger in between his fingers, walking closer. “It’s your funeral- oh wait, funerals don’t happen anymore, meaning you’ll just be left as food for whatever demented creature sniffs your body out first. Is that _really_ what you want?”

Tommy swallowed thickly, refraining the urge to run his fingers through his hair. “Alright, fair point,” he conceded shakily.

“Can I at least keep my picture? Come on, I mean, you have no need for that shit anyway, _right?_ ” He asked with a note of desperation in his voice.

The man seemed to falter for a moment, an unknown emotion flashing in his eyes before his lips twisted into a sadistic smirk, “ _Ooh_ , sentimental value?”

He put a finger to his chin as if deep in thought for a few moments before dropping it and looking at Tommy with piercing eyes. “How about we cut you a deal, yeah?”

“You’re young, unassuming, wouldn’t be too hard for a kid like you to infiltrate a group or two without causing any suspicion,” he went on.

Tommy’s stomach sank, he didn’t like where this deal was going.

“ _So-_ if you really want to keep those pictures of yours, you’ll do us a favour and become our thief for a few weeks. So-” the man held out a hand, “-do we have a deal?”

Tommy stared at the offered hand, this was his only choice, he refused to lose the only thing he had left of his old life. He clenched his jaw and took the man’s hand, meeting calculating green eyes with his own resolved blue ones.

The man shook his hand and gave a deceptively warm smile as he waved back to the rest of the gang before putting his dagger in a sheath attached to his leg. The rest of the gang followed suit, putting their weapons without hesitation.

“I look forward to working with you,” the man said smoothly, letting go of his hand and gesturing for the teen to follow.

\---

The next few days were spent trapped in a building that, from the outside, looked like every other half collapsed structure, but the basement was well furnished and oddly cozy. They showed him how to sharpen his knife and trained him till he was bruised and exhausted. 

A petite woman who gave off extreme teacher vibes was in charge of what he decided to call _‘deception training’_. Teaching him what not to say or do, how to gain the sympathy of others, and most importantly, how to lie.

He wasn’t very good at any of those things, but they must have decided it was well enough, because on his fourth day of being with them they told him he was ready for his first job.

The man pressed the handle of the sharpened knife into Tommy’s palm, “Alright, remember what we’ve taught you and there shouldn’t be any problems. This group’s leader is a mother, meaning they’ll have a soft spot for children, exploit that fact as much as possible, but _don’t_ give yourself away,” he reminded the teen.

Tommy nodded, forcing himself to think about his lost family. Fuck, he missed them, they always had his back. He thought about his dogs, he hoped they were okay... 

Tears sprung to his eyes and he had to stop himself from wiping them away out of habit. He took a shaky breath, he could do this- he had to do this.

\---

Tommy stumbled out into the open, semi-fake tears rolling down his face. “H-hello? Is anyone there? Please,” He choked out.

“Please, I need help! My mum just-” he interrupted himself with a forced sob.

He glanced around uneasily, these were the city outskirts. The forest was _way_ too fucking close for comfort in his opinion.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, a woman’s voice called out to him. “Hey kiddo, are you okay?”

Tommy felt sick to his stomach hearing the genuine concern in her gentle voice, the feeling only made it easier for him to cry. “I- my mum and dad, they- we got attacked by someone, I can’t find them anywhere,” he lied

“Don’t worry kid, you can stay with us as long as you need to. My name’s Nora, are you okay with telling me yours?” She asked softly.

Tommy couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes, “My name’s Tommy.”

Nora put a hand on his shoulder, “That’s a nice name. Why don’t we head over inside, I can boil some water for tea if you’d like?” She offered.

Tommy nodded and let himself be guided into a nearby school building, keeping his eyes down and trying to remind himself that it was all worth it.

\---

Tommy sat alone in the dark, staring blankly down at the knife in his hands. It had already been a few days and he hated everything about this, these people took him in and treated him with kindness. Sure, they were a little overbearing and babied him way too much, but that didn’t mean he wanted to screw them over!

A hesitant knock on the door brought him back to the present, putting the knife away and looking up. 

Nora’s daughter, a six year old who was a little too quiet for her age opened the door. “Tommy, food’s ready,” she informed him softly.

“Thank you, Abby.” _Good for nothing traitor_ , his mind spat venomously to himself.

The girl lingered for a second longer, opening her mouth as if she wanted to say something before quickly closing it and running off down back down the hall.

Tommy sighed, this wasn’t moral. As much as he had longed for a group of friends to call his own, he couldn’t bring himself to relax. These people weren’t his friends, in fact, he might as well call them his enemies given the circumstances.

He couldn’t lose that photo, it was the only evidence he had left of his family, that things used to be normal. He was terrified that he would forget their faces altogether if he didn’t have the picture. It was already getting harder to remember their voices.

Tommy got to his feet and made his way to the cafeteria where the large group of people were scooping portions of canned soup into bowls and containers and passing them around. The fire that was used to cook was already smothered with sand and reduced to dying coals.

He forced himself to eat despite his practically nonexistent appetite before setting his bowl to the side and standing up. “I’m going to go on a walk, I need to move around a bit,” He told the group.

Nora gave him a concerned look, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if something happens and none of us are there to help you?”

The teen felt a stab of mild annoyance, “Don’t worry, I’ve got my knife. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s stab shit,” Tommy claimed with a quick pat to the aforementioned knife, walking out the door.

“Stay away from the forest!" She reminded him before he wandered out of earshot.

The midday sun was hot on his back as he walked down streets filled with the ruined remains of society. His eyes caught on one store in particular, the large viewing window long since smashed to scattered shards.

Inside were various musical instruments, including a dusty upright piano sitting in the back. A slow smile crept onto his face, when was the last time he played piano?

Tommy hopped through the broken window and trotted over to the piano. He brushed his fingers over the keys, wrinkling his nose in displeasure at the thick layer of dust coating them. The next few minutes were spent diligently cleaning the piano to the best of his abilities.

He sat down on the sturdy piano bench, letting his fingers slip into familiar spots on the keys and played a few experimental chords. Tommy felt rather pleasantly surprised upon realizing that it was only a little out of tune.

The first thing he did as he tried to remember which songs he knew was to play one of the first songs he learned without the help of his instructor... 

Megalovania. 

Come on, did you really expect the first song he played after going so long without a piano to be classical and fancy? No, he needed this, needed the familiarity of the song he had listened to a countless amount of times.

Muscle memory began to kick in as he switched chords and slid into a different song. He hit the wrong notes on occasion, but it brought a smile to his face nonetheless. It reminded him of simpler times, playing the old classical song his piano instructor had made him practice for weeks and weeks on end. He remembered being frustrated at the time, but now he couldn’t be more grateful to have learned it.

He allowed himself to be absorbed into the flow of the sound, his fingers dancing across the keys with practiced ease. Music filled an otherwise silent world, filling him with a sense of satisfaction and hope. The vague feeling that maybe things weren’t always as shitty as they seemed.

He didn’t notice the way tears blurred his vision as the song sped up, playing with an urgency few others would have understood. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that he was supposed to be quiet, that anyone or anything could hear him. The world faded around him and all that mattered was the melody that filled the empty air.

His eyes were closed as his fingers pressed the last keys of the song, not moving them even after the sound had faded away.

Clapping from close behind had Tommy standing up and gripping his knife in a panic. 

A tall man with wavy brown hair paused mid clap, blinking in surprise at the knife pointed at his chest. “Woah, put the fuckin' knife away, if I was going to kill you I’d have done it while you were distracted."

Tommy narrowed his eyes, why did the man seem oddly familiar? “Who are you?” He demanded.

The tall man raised a brow, “Wilbur Soot, at your service. Now _please_ move the knife, it’s kind of rude.”

Wilbur… Hold on, that voice- wasn’t he part of that group that took down a full camp of raiders a while ago? The one with Technoblade? Tommy lowered the knife and stepped back to keep a safe distance between him and Wilbur. He didn’t sheath his blade, holding it in a white knuckled grip just in case the man decided to attack him.

Wilbur glanced briefly to the weapon in his hands before looking over to the piano. “You were pretty good with that, how long have you played?” He asked casually.

Was the man trying to lure him into a false sense of security? Just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike? Probably not… But the possibility was there.

Wait a moment- how long _had_ he been playing piano for? His mother first took him for lessons when he was… _Eight_? How old was he now? If he was almost thirteen when everything went to shit, and if it was late spring in the third year of being on his own, that made for…

“Eight years? Though I haven’t played since before this whole thing happened,” he explained with a vague hand gesture.

Wilbur hummed, “I play a few instruments of my own, mind if I strum a few chords?” he asked.

Tommy shrugged awkwardly, still wary of the man. “Do whatever you want, I guess," he mumbled.

Wilbur turned his back to Tommy and picked his way over to the guitar section. An unfortunate number of them were lying damaged on the dusty carpeted floor. The brunet grabbed one of the few intact acoustic guitars off of the rack and did a quick test strum before going straight into tuning.

Tommy couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that guitars could be tuned so much easier than pianos. If Tommy tried to tune the piano, he’d be much more likely to completely ruin the insides as opposed to actually fixing anything. 

Wilbur sat cross legged on the floor and began to strum a familiar tune that had Tommy perking up slightly. He put away his knife and sat at the piano once again, fingers drifting over to the correct keys.

He waited until Wilbur got back to the chorus before joining in with the piano. He heard the man's strumming falter for half a second before it came back even stronger.

He played music with Wilbur until his hands were cramped and sore from going so long without practice. Tommy could tell his music buddy was in a similar position by the way he flexed his fingers slowly in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

Tommy grinned over at Wilbur, a type of pure joy he hadn’t experienced in years bubbling up in his chest. Wilbur met him with a charming smile of his own, doing one last happy strum with reddened fingertips.

“Are you on your own? You could join my friends and I if you’d like to,” Wilbur offered.

Tommy’s immediate impulse was to say, yes, of course he wanted to go with the musician. Then his good mood was quickly dampened as he realized he had to refuse. “Sorry big man, I already have a group. I doubt they’d be all too thrilled with me up and leaving like that,” he sighed.

“That’s fine, man. You gotta take care of your people.” Wilbur nodded understandingly.

_But they weren’t his people and he wanted nothing to do with them!_ His mind was shouting, frustration boiling just under his skin. Instead of vocalizing those thoughts, he stood up and stretched.

“Welp, I oughta get going now. Take care, big dubs!” Tommy waved goodbye, trying not to feel too disheartened by the fact that he’d likely never meet the man again.

Wilbur laughed, waving back at him, “You too, weird child!”

Tommy exaggerated a pout that, thinking back on it, definitely didn’t help Wilbur’s view of him being a child. “If not for the fact that I actually have somewhere to be, I’d have started _stabbin’_ shit!” He insisted, flipping his middle finger up at the man he wished he could call a friend.

Wilbur’s joyous laughter echoed through the empty streets as Tommy walked away with heavy shoulders.

\---

“Where were you?!” Nora demanded as soon as he got back, distress evident in her voice as she looked Tommy over for injuries.

Tommy tore his arm away from her grasp, “I’m fine. I got distracted by a music store,” he explained.

The woman messed anxiously with her curly brown ponytail, “You need to be more careful, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Tommy smiled tersely, he couldn’t blame her for being concerned, but he despised the way she treated him like a helpless child. “I’m sixteen, not _five_ . I am a _big man,"_ he pointed out insistently.

Nora exhaled slowly, responding with a smile of her own, “I know, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be cautious.”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry, sorry,” he apologized despite not meaning a single word.

Nora gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, “Good, now I believe Bad wanted to speak with you when you got back, he should be upstairs in the classroom at the end of the left wing right now,” she informed him.

The teen nodded and started in the direction, he wondered what Bad could possibly want with him. The man was a bit of an odd one, always wearing a hood over his head and gloves on his hands. And then there was the grey bandana covering his mouth that he refused to take off, going as far as to take his food into another room.

Tommy heard whispers now and then from some of the group members. Theorizing that Bad was secretly a monster in disguise, getting closer to the children so that he could eat them.

Tommy thought that was a load of bullshit. Bad, for all his insistence that he was hardcore, was a complete fucking softy. Refused to swear, got upset whenever someone swore in his presence, and used the word _muffin_ as a substitute for a multitude of different words (which only made him more fun to swear around).

Though, he supposed the little mutant dog always at Bad's side didn't exactly help the group's opinion of him. He was pretty sure the only reason no one had said anything to Bad's face yet was because they were either scared of him or worried about upsetting Nora.

The thought of Bad being considered dangerous was laughable at best. Tommy was beginning to doubt the man was capable of harming something even if it tried to kill him.

The classroom door was closed when he got there and Tommy gave a couple swift knocks before opening the door. “What is up, _bitch!”_

“Aaa- language! _Language, Tommy!”_ Bad shouted, slamming his book closed.

Only then did Tommy notice the children sitting in a loose semi circle around Bad on a carpet who were all now staring at the teen with varying degrees of confusion. He couldn’t help but burst out laughing, “Woops, my bad!” He didn’t bother closing the door behind him as he stepped into the room.

Bad let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing at his tired eyes behind glasses. “Don’t use naughty language, please,” he berated gently, his mutated dog named Rat (or was her name Lucy?) padded over to press her head against Bad’s chest, three tails wagging.

“Well, see, here’s the thing. I don’t actually consider that _'naughty language'_ , I am just _expressing_ myself,” Tommy pointed out.

Bad pet his dog, some of the tension draining from his posture. “Whatever, I’m not gonna argue with you right now. I was just wondering if you would be willing to show these little muffins your knife? Abby was a little too nervous about asking you directly.”

Tommy blinked, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Yeah, sure.” He took out his knife and held it up for everyone to see.

“I stole this thing from a fool who tried to mug me a year back. The dumb-” He glanced at Bad and sighed heavily, “ _-man_ , didn’t see it coming when I- I punched him in the face and stole this knife.” While not entirely false, he may or may not have stolen it from someone while they were asleep instead of fighting for it directly.

The faint scent of smoke had Tommy furrowing his brow. He looked over to Bad, who was suddenly alert, head tilted up.

The man put his book to the side and stood up, Rat hopping off his lap. "Tommy, do you mind checking that out?" He asked, glancing worriedly at the unaware kids.

Tommy gave a brisk nod, putting his knife away and walking out the door. Surely if the group was making a fire in the cafeteria the smoke wouldn't travel all the way upstairs. He noticed with a twinge of unease that it was getting increasingly more warm and the smoke heavier as he walked.

His eyes widened before he even made it to the stairway, the sound of a fire crackling met his ears. He ran the rest of the way, " _Oh shit, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, shit_ ," the teen muttered as he skidded to a stop in front of the quickly growing fire blocking the entire stairway and filling the area with suffocating black smoke.

He covered his mouth and nose with the front of his shirt as he ran back to the classroom. "There's a fire on the stairs. We need to get the fuck out of here!"

Bad didn't even take the time to correct him on his language, clapping his gloved hands together to gain everyone's attention. "Okay, everyone stay calm and follow me."

Tommy helped Bad corral the kids out the door and into the hallway. Tommy looked around wildly, how were they supposed to get out? They weren't exactly on the first floor, and even if he did know how to land safely, the kids would still be trapped!

While Tommy was scrambling to figure something out, Bad's expression was deadly serious. The teen paused, watching as Bad calmly opened a supply closet and took out a bundle of rope.

“Tommy, come here. You'll go down first and then you can keep an eye on these muffins as I let them down," Bad instructed calmly, unraveling the rope and letting spools of it drop to the floor.

Tommy complied without complaint, letting the man tie the rope around his arms and chest like a harness. They pried the window open and Tommy looked down at the pavement far below. “Hey, you're strong, right? Because I _really_ don't want to fall from this height," he worried.

Bad finished double checking the ropes before nodding. "I won't let you fall,"

Tommy swallowed thickly, climbing slowly out the open window. He clung to the windowsill for a few moments longer before finally letting go. His heart stopped momentarily when he dropped a couple feet before slowing down.

His feet touched solid ground again and he was quick to undo the knots, tugging on the rope to let Bad know he was fine.

The rope was pulled up and not long after, one of the kids being lowered out of the window. Tommy helped the kid whenever they got close enough, setting them on the ground and untying the makeshift harness.

They repeated the process multiple times until the kids were safely on the ground. Concern began to build up when he noticed just how big the fire was getting. Tommy squinted up at the window, how was Bad going to get dow-

He stared in shock as Bad swing himself out the window and jabbed two long knives into the fucking wall, Rat strapped to his back using the rope. Bad scaled down the wall with a level of ease that could only come from experience.

Bad’s boots hit the ground and the man barely stopped to untie his dog before beginning to herd the children farther away from the burning building. “Everyone hold hands, okay? I don’t want anyone to get separated,” he directed.

Tommy led the front of the group, holding on to Abby’s hand. He stiffened at the sound of fast approaching footsteps from around the corner. He put himself in front of Abby and took out his knife, ready for a fight.

A man with a wild grin and dark hair held out of his face by a white strip of fabric turned the corner, sharp metal hatchet already raised. Tommy stumbled backwards, bringing his knife up just in time to catch the wooden handle of the hatchet on the blade of his knife, letting out a fearful yelp.

A knife came flying from behind Tommy, embedding itself into his attacker’s shoulder. “Run!” Bad ordered as he ran in front of the teen, already taking out another knife.

Tommy didn’t have time to feel shocked, turning on his heel and pulling Abby and the rest of the kids along with him. One of the younger boys tripped over a chunk of rubble, tumbling to the ground. “Keep going!” He told them as he stopped to scoop the now sobbing kid up in his arms.

He made the mistake of looking back at Bad. The man was locked in combat with two people now, a fresh gash on his shoulder. Rat was laying motionless beside a wall, Tommy could only hope the dog wasn’t dead.

He tore his gaze away and ran after the group of kids with a foul taste in his mouth.

They didn't stop running until Tommy was certain they were far enough, practically dropping the kid as he knelt over, gasping for breath. He did a quick head count, two, four…

_Shit-_ where did Abby go? He didn't abandon Bad to fight all alone just so that he could lose one of the kids. He pushed himself back up to his feet and looked around frantically. "Abby? Abby This ain't funny," he called nervously.

Goddamn it, this was fucking awful. “Stay here," he told the kids firmly before turning back the way they came from.

Dread crept in quick as he jogged farther and farther with no sign of Abby. ”Shit, fuck, shit, shit, shit. Please don't be dead," he muttered to himself.

He ended up all the way back at the school, the building was engulfed in roaring flames that were already starting to spread to other buildings.

Tommy’s eyes widened as they landed on Bad. The man's coat was gone and his bandana left in tatters around his neck, the gloves had been abandoned at some point. A pair of glasses was shattered beyond repair nearby.

Bad’s expression was twisted into a vicious fanged snarl, small horns sat nestled in a mix of brown and black hair. Even more shocking were the clawed ebony hands and spade-tipped tail as he fought a masked man wielding a wicked axe.

Was the rest of the group right? Was Bad a monster?

Bad just barely dodged out of the way of what would have been a killing blow to the skull.

_What the fuck was Tommy been thinking?_ Bad was risking his life for Tommy, even if he wasn’t fully human, why the hell should that matter?

The least he could do was to find Abby-

Bad was knocked to the ground, head smacking against pavement. 

Tommy inhaled sharply as the masked man loomed over Bad's bloodied form. The man planted a foot on Bad’s chest, turning his head to look directly at Tommy. 

The teen was frozen in place as a gun was slowly drawn and then directed downward…

_Bang!_

\---

Techno absentmindedly fiddled with the pistol he normally kept as a backup weapon, only half listening to Wilbur as he talked about some kid he met at a music store the earlier. He was glad Wilbur had something to uplift his mood, Techno noticed the man had been a little down recently. It wasn’t always the most obvious thing, staring off into space here, a particularly heavy sigh there. Despite how the man tried to hide it, Techno and Phil always noticed and Techno always felt bad for not being able to help.

“Hey, are you guys seeing that too? Or have I finally gone batshit fucking crazy?” Phil asked, pointing at dark plumes of smoke rising from a few blocks away.

“Oh... yep, definitely seeing that. Also thinking we should avoid it, there’s no way that was a natural fire,” Techno monotoned, already turning away.

Techno’s ears twitched at the quick pattering of footsteps and panicked gasping breaths, glancing over his shoulder to see a young girl with tear-filled eyes running away from the direction of the fire. The kid tripped over herself and tumbled to the ground when she saw them, scrambling backwards despite the new scrapes on her hands and knees.

Techno saw Phil and Wilbur’s expressions morph into immediate concern, Wilbur stepping closer slowly with raised hands. “Hey, it’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you,” he reassured the girl.

The kid watched them with wide eyes, mumbling something they couldn’t quite catch.

“Sorry, would you mind repeating that?” Wilbur asked.

She grabbed a jagged rock and staggered to her feet, holding the poor excuse for a weapon with trembling hands. “I- I said stay away,” she repeated shakily.

Techno had to respect the guts displayed. Small and blatantly terrified, yet still trying to fight.

Phil put a hand on Wilbur's shoulder and exchanged a quick glance with the younger man, who reluctantly backed away.

Phil crouched down to be on eye level with the girl, "It's alright, whatever was trying to hurt you isn't here. My name's Phil, that's Wilbur, and he's Techno," Phil introduced them in a soft tone.

The girl glared distrustfully, but gave a quiet response, "Abby."

"Okay Abby, can you tell me what happened?" Phil requested gently.

Abby’s breath hitched, jaw clenching as she frantically rubbed away tears. "I- the school's on fire, and I got- I lost Tommy, and Bad's- Bad's in trouble!" She sobbed.

Techno saw Wilbur still, eyes widening slightly. " _Tommy-_ Phil, that _can't_ be a coincidence, we have to go help!"

Techno beat Phil to it, "Absolutely not. It's survival of the fittest, and we don't know what's over there," he said firmly.

"Techno, _please_ ," he wasn't expecting the desperation in Wilbur's tone and expression.

He didn't like how conflicted he felt about this. If they stopped to help every survivor they came across, they wouldn't have gotten past the first week. Techno had turned his back on people begging and screaming for help, it was necessary for lasting in a world like this one.

At the same time, Wilbur normally understood why they couldn't save people. So seeing him so distressed about not being able to help wasn't something Techno was used to. Hold on, didn't Wilbur say the music kid was named Tommy? 

Techno sighed, "Come on, we should start moving before we're too late to be of any help," he relented after a moment of hesitation.

Wilbur flashed the pink haired man a grateful look and Techno gave a brief nod in return. Phil scooped the girl up in his arms before he started running. The other two were quick to follow suit, Techno running ahead, he had a feeling he didn't want to be late.

He was already reaching for his pistol as he approached the street. He cocked the gun as he turned the corner, eyes immediately landing on the green sweater wearing man stood over a bloodied body and pointing a gun downward.

Techno acted without another thought, aiming for the man's arm and pulling the trigger.

_Bang!_

Blood splattered and the gun fell from the hooded man's hand. The man turned his head to look at Techno, revealing a way too cheerful smile on a mask smeared with fresh blood.

Techno unsheathed his sword, he wasn't about to waste anymore bullets on this. He didn't bother glancing over his shoulder at the sound of his friends' footsteps.

The masked man stepped away from the body, tossing a hatchet between his hands as he walked closer.

"I know you… You're the mighty _Technoblade_ , huh?" The man mused.

Techno didn't grace him with an answer, but the other man seemed more than happy to continue anyway. "You've made quite the name for yourself. Some call you the blood god, many call you unkillable…" He droned on.

Techno could feel irritation starting to grow from within him.

"I believe these claims to be false. No one is unkillable, and if gods existed then we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. My name is Dream, and I'm the guy that's going to put an end to you," the masked man claimed.

Techno sighed, all of this could have been avoided if they'd stuck to his original plan and went the opposite direction. He did a quick scan of the area, a blond teen ran over to the body’s side and frantically checked for a pulse. Two other men were standing off to the side, leaning against each other and bleeding from various knife wounds. And then, of course, the raging fire that was slowly overtaking the far side of the street.

Techno turned his attention back to Dream, injured but unbothered and clearly jacked up on an adrenaline rush. He didn’t like this, he couldn’t gauge his opponent’s strength, he was going in blind to the other’s skills. Techno glanced back at his friends, jerking his head in the teen's direction. Phil nodded wordlessly and gestured for Wilbur to follow.

The weight of the sword was comfortable in his grasp as he stared at the two eye holes in the mask. “Alright then-" he rolled his shoulders, "-let's fight."

He saw Dream’s grin widen just below the cutoff of the mask, there was something borderline feral about the man. Techno tightened his grip on the sword, _no problem, just don’t get hit_. As long as he dodges and ends the fight quickly, there shouldn’t be any problems.

They circled each other for a few seconds, both trying to get a read for the other’s plans. Dream made the first move, jumping forward and swinging his hatchet forward. Techno dodged out of the way, going for a jab at his opponent’s side.

The masked man twisted out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit. Techno didn't relent though, quickly shifting on his feet and slashing. 

Dream wasn't quite able to dodge in time, the tip of Techno’s blade catching the man’s upper arm. 

"Not bad, but I suppose they don't call you the _blood god_ for nothing," Dream mused as he jumped back a few paces.

Techno resisted the ever growing urge to sigh once again, "Have you ever considered-" he cut himself off suddenly, tilting his head and straining his ears.

"Wha-" Dream surprisingly shut up when Techno lifted a finger.

The sound of large wingbeats reached his ears and he let out a quiet curse under his breath. He could tell Dream heard them too by the way the man's posture stiffened, hand tightening around the hatchet.

Techno directed his eyes to the skies just in time to see several giant birds swooping down with rapid clicking noises that sounded like a twisted version of cooing. The oversized mutated pigeons descended with outstretched talons, Techno’s eyes widened as one of them snatched Wilbur and the blond kid.

“George!” Dream cried out as another bird grabbed one of his allies, reaching for his gun, only to come to the realization that it was still lying five feet away.

Techno didn’t hesitate to grab his own gun, aiming and firing at the bird that held Wilbur. The bullet struck the bird in one of it’s four legs, earning a pained squawk from the creature. Unfortunately, he missed his intended target and hit one of the two legs that _wasn’t_ carrying anyone.

The pigeons flew off in a panic, taking their screaming captives with them. Techno’s gut twisted painfully and his mouth opened involuntarily-

“ _No_!” A desperate shout that wasn’t his own came from behind.

Techno whipped around to see a young man with ruffled ginger hair and a colourful bandana wrapped around his neck. The man’s eyes were wide and distant, hands shaking violently as he muttered something Techno couldn’t quite make out from where he stood.

He could hear Dream pacing back and forth nearby, talking to someone named Sapnap. His attention wasn't on them though, something felt odd about the newcomer.

“Who are you?" Techno demanded.

The man's eyes snapped back into focus, locking onto Techno. "Irrelevant… What matters is that I know where those feathered fucks are nesting. And if we don't act quickly there won't even be bones left to identify them," he said grimly.

\---

Bad groaned softly as he came to, his entire body aching with pain. He did a quick mental scan of himself, both of his arms were injured and his abdomen felt like it was burning. He felt like he had been run over by a bus.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing at the flare of pain it sent through his arms and side. His head started pounding, where was he?

He opened his eyes and squinted, quickly adjusting to the low light.

The surrounding street was covered in blood and ashes. There were no signs of the people he had been fighting, nor any of his group, did they get away okay? 

The fire that had ravaged the school had died down considerably, reduced to a smoking ash covered skeleton of what it once was.

He picked himself up off the ground, staggering to his feet and inspecting his more serious wounds. Any minor scrapes and bruises were already beginning to heal. He noted with slight confusion that his deeper gashes had been hastily wrapped 

Hold on, where was Rat?

Bad stiffened, looking around frantically. He couldn't lose Lucy, she was the only one who never judged him for things, his only real friend.

A bundle of dirtied white fur caught his attention and he didn't hesitate to run over. He knelt down and cradled the dog in his arms.

Dear god, please don't let her be dead-

Rat stirred at the movement, dark eyes blinking open in slow confusion. “Oh, thank goodness!” Bad murmured in relief.

The mutant dog wiggled out of his arms and shook the dust from her pelt. She spun in a quick circle to inspect herself before stopping with a satisfied huff.

She looked around before giving Bad an inquisitive head tilt.

“I'm not sure where they are, we can try going to the emergency meetup spot?" Bad answered the silent question.

Rat gave a sharp bark of approval that sent a shock through Bad's skull and started trotting down the street, glancing back every now and then to make sure he was following.

Bad's arm defaulted to wrap loosely around his injured side and he had to squint through the pounding pain in the back of his head. _Just a little farther_ , he reminded himself internally.

It took longer than he would have liked, but they eventually came to a stop outsides of the meetup building. He pushed the squeaky old door open and stepped inside.

Rat started growling as guns were immediately aimed at Bad.

"Don't come any closer," one of them ordered gruffly.

_Fight back, hurt them before they hurt you-_ stop, that isn’t not you.

Bad froze, muscles going tense and tail freezing mid-sway. "I don't get it- what are you guys…"

His tail, his horns, hands, teeth, even his hair… None of them were covered up anymore, they could see what he really was.

He could see Nora staring at him from beside one of the armed group members. ” _Nora…_ _Please_ , you know me- you know I'd never hurt any of you!" Bad tried.

Nora looked at him with shimmering eyes filled with hurt, pain, and, buried deep underneath, fear. "Do I?"

The gun wielding people's eyes were cold and unforgiving. They didn't see him as a human anymore. All they could see him as was a monster and a threat.

_Attack, run, survive._ The animalistic part of his mind continued to hiss, luckily nowhere near strong enough to override his carefully held together self-control.

Bad bit his lip, "Come on Lucy, let's leave them alone," he whispered in a tight voice.

They didn't get very far before he heard light footsteps running after him.

He turned just in time to catch Abby in his arms as she threw herself at him. "I don't want you to go," She mumbled into his torn up shirt.

Bad's heart clenched painfully, "I know, I'm gonna miss you muffinheads."

The girls grip on him tightened, digging into his side. "It's not fair! Why do you have to go, it's not-" She hiccupped, entire body shaking like a leaf.

"It's alright, it's for the best," he wasn't sure if he was saying it to her or himself.

Bad took the tattered bandana off from around his neck. "Here, it's not exactly a great gift, but it's something to remember me by," he offered.

Abby blinked up at him with a wide-eyed stare, "Really? I can have that?"

He tied it loosely around his neck and flashed her a reassuring smile, "Sure thing, you potato. Just try not to cause your moms too much trouble, okay? They really care about you." He ruffled her short hair, careful not to accidentally scratch her.

Abby gasped suddenly as if remembering something important. "Tommy! He's still in trouble, the big birds got him!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms out to the side as if they were wings.

_What._ Bad's stomach dropped and his blood ran cold at the new information.

No, that couldn't be true- he got away with the rest of the kids, _right?_

”The guy with bright hair said it took him to the comm- communism center?" She narrowed her eyes in slight confusion.

“The community center," Bad corrected, to which she nodded vigorously.

Darn it, he actively avoided that area. Not only did it smell horrible, but you were basically just _asking_ to be picked up and eaten by going anywhere near that place. 

"Go back to the group, Abby. I'll save him," _if he's still alive_ , his mind added on grimly.

The girl looked torn, obviously wanting to help. She looked back towards the meetup building and sagged her shoulders.

"Okay-" She gave him one last bone crushing hug, "-miss you already." And then she took off, only looking back once.

"Miss you too," Bad echoed quietly.

A fat raindrop plopping on his nose snapped him back into the present. “Come on Lucy, let's go save that foul-mouthed ragamuffin."

\---

Techno sighed quietly as he brushed damp strands of pink hair from his face. He didn't trust the gang leader in the slightest, refused to give so much as an alias to go by.

The dude was shady as all hell and dodged around questions as if it were second nature. He seemed like the kind of person to keep a minimum of ten weapons concealed on his person at all times (not that Techno was any different in that regard). 

There was something haunted about the man's eyes, a distant pain that radiated from him. Techno would have chalked it up to losing the blond teen to pigeons, but one thing didn't quite add up.

Why was the gang lurking in the shadows while everyone else was fighting? They were all too organized to have just gotten there by the time the birds showed up. If they really cared about Tommy's wellbeing, they would have stepped in earlier.

But they didn't… Which led Techno to believe there was more to the gang leader's relation to Tommy than the man let on.

And then there were Sapnap and Dream. They were the ones who set fire to the school in the first place, more accurately, _Sapnap_ lit the place up. Dream seemed to be at least a little bit more rational than his friend. Then again, he also challenged Techno while injured, so maybe he was wrong about that.

“We’re coming up to the community center, stay quiet and stay close, we don’t need any casualties,” the gang leader instructed, grabbing a sawed-off shotgun from it’s holster at his side and stalking forward silently.

Techno exchanged a glance with Phil and cracked his knuckles in anticipation... Time to get Wilbur back.

The community center loomed over them, it was almost impressive how intact the building was. 

Techno wrinkled his nose in disgust at the copious amounts of bird shit and waterlogged feathers covering the area. He could hear pigeons clicking and cooing at each other from on top of the building. 

A loud string of curses and a high pitch scream came from above.

_"Catch me!"_

Techno's head shot up at Wilbur’s voice, just in time to see the man fling himself off the building in their direction. Techno lunged forward with outstretched arms.

His joints burned in protest at the sudden weight as he caught Wilbur in his arms. Techno’s boots slipped in the rain, sending both of them tumbling to the disgusting ground.

Techno got up quickly, pulling the brunet with him and doing a quick inspection. Something in his chest felt lighter after seeing the man only had one visible injury, a sluggishly bleeding gash on his upper arm.

"Mate, you good?" Phil asked incredulously.

Wilbur brushed himself off and readjusted his coat. "I've been better. Though I will say, very nice catch Techno."

Techno blinked at Wilbur, still trying to process everything. " _Why_? Why would you jump off though? It doesn't make any sense?" He muttered.

Wilbur laughed awkwardly, "Yeah, not my best decision. Especially given that Tommy's now stuck up there with George and those birds," he admitted. 

"I know we have to save them, or what whatever… But do we _really_ have to?" Techno asked half jokingly.

" _Yes_." Wilbur, Dream, Sapnap, and the gang leader all snapped in unison.

Techno raised his hands and took a quick step back, "Right, sorry I asked," he muttered.

Dream unclipped the hatchet from his hip and spun it around in his hand. "George may be British- but he's still our friend, and I wouldn't trade him for anything,"

Sapnap nodded firmly in agreement before there was another loud yell from the roof.

_"Hey! Stop trying to eat me, you bitch!”_

The gang leader tensed, “Let’s get a move on.”

The ragtag group nodded and made for the door, except for Wilbur, who stood still. When Techno looked back curiously, the taller man had a slight grimace on his face. “Not sure who _that_ is- but there's one _slight_ problem with your plan,” He started.

“Oh?” The ginger tilted his head.

“Yeah- well, I mean. Did you really think jumping off the _fucking building_ was my first idea?” Wilbur paused, shooting Techno a look.

“Don’t answer that- what I’m trying to say is the door on the roof is blocked by the bird’s nest. And _normally,_ that wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately for us- that nest is made of literal _flattened cars and lamp posts_ ,” Wilbur finished quickly.

Of course, because nothing could ever be that simple. 

The gang leader kicked at a nearby piece of rubble, “ _Fuck- god damn it, not again!”_ He cursed.

Techno watched the man curiously, _again?_ That would imply this isn't the first time he's lost someone to pigeons... That sounds pretty pathetic out of context.

Whatever, none of his business either way. Techno started scanning the surrounding area, there had to be a way up _somewhere_.

"What the fuck…?"

Techno followed Wilbur’s line of sight. A somewhat familiar person running at full speed towards the community center with a six legged dog just ahead of him. What was his name? The kid said his name was Bad, right?

“Oh, he's not dead," Techno mused.

He was honestly expecting the man to bleed out on that ravaged street. They didn't exactly stick around to make sure he was okay after Wilbur got taken.

Bad didn't slow down, even as he approached the wall. For a second Techno was convinced the man would run straight into it and knock himself out or something. 

And then there was a flash of steel as Bad took out two knives. He ran the first couple steps up the side of the wall before jabbing the knives into the rain-slick surface with a scrape and a thunk.

Oh, fuck that. No way Techno was missing out on all the action.

He shoved his short cape into Wilbur's arms and got a running start at the wall.

His feet pushed against concrete as he jumped with outstretched fingertips. His hands found purchase, grabbing hold of a ledge that served no real purpose other than aesthetics.

He dragged the rest of his body up to the ledge with little struggle and focused on the next handhold, ignoring the way his rifle bounced around on his back.

It wasn't very long until Techno was on the roof of the community center. Bad was standing in between Tommy, George, and the two pigeons. The man's teeth were bared in a snarl, tail lashing out angrily behind him. Forget what he thought earlier about Dream looking feral, this man was looking like a cornered animal.

The birds didn’t seem at all phased, making a distorted coo and waddling forward fearlessly.

Techno pulled the rifle from his back, taking a slow breath to steady his aim before pulling the trigger. 

He didn't miss this time, striking the closest pigeon in the side of the head.

It's head didn't explode, per say… But it certainly wasn't pretty.

The small group also happened to be within the splash zone, now all soaked in blood and brain bits.

Now _that_ scared the other bird, who flapped its wings in alarm. The pigeon beat its wings loudly, scattering sheets of rain as it frantically flew away before it could join its fallen friend.

Techno waited until he was sure it wouldn't be coming back before putting away his gun and turning his attention to where Tommy was sitting dazed on the roof, covered in blood beside Bad and George.

"Any life threatening injuries I should know about?" Techno asked, it was impossible to tell with the amount of bird blood.

Bad finished looking them over and shook his head, “All clear, thank you." The man answered stiffly.

Bad looked Techno up and down, clawed hands twitching. It almost looked like the man was about to pounce on him for a second, and then. “Keep him safe." Bad darted to the opposite side of the roof and hopped down without another word.

Well that was… Mildly concerning.

_“Yo,_ that was fucking insane!" George half yelled half laughed, also covered head to toe in blood.

The blond kid was still staring blankly at nothing and Techno felt a small tug of worry in his chest.

He crouched in front of the kid and waved his gloved hand. Not so much as a blink.

“Hey. Zombie child, anyone in there? Mighty Technoblade speaking." He lightly tapped Tommy’s head with his knuckle a couple times.

Tommy flinched away and shook his head, clarity returning to his eyes.

“Oh good, I was worried I might have to carry you," Techno said, only half joking.

His concern grew as the teen stood up without a word. From what Wilbur said about the kid, he didn't seem like the kind of guy to stay quiet for long. 

"Do… do you need me to carry you?" Techno asked uncertainly, the kid was shaking and he couldn't tell if it was from the cold or not.

Tommy shrugged limply before dragging his feet over to the edge of the building. He was teetering a little too close for comfort, Techno didn't climb all the way up here just for him to go splat on the ground.

He gestured for George to come with and jogged over to Tommy.

Techno grabbed the teen's arm as a precaution before glancing at George. "You can get down on your own, right? 'Cause I ain't carrying both of you."

"Of course I can," the man scoffed, rolling up his coat sleeves and starting down the building side.

Techno gave a satisfied nod and hauled the mostly unresponsive teen onto his back. He was a little worried Tommy would fall off, but the kid was at least aware enough to hold on tightly.

Techno swung over the edge and cautiously made his way down, keeping the extra weight into account.

His feet finally hit disgusting pavement and he let Tommy slide off his back.

The gang leader rushed over, "Where did this blood come from?" He demanded.

“Relax, it's bird blood."

The gang leader nodded, "Good, those fuckers deserve it," he spat.

The ginger wiped some of the blood off Tommy’s face and whispered something Techno couldn't catch. 

Whatever he said, it got Tommy to straighten up, eyes widening with what looked like hope.

The gang leader took a step back and reached into his pocket, pulling out a picture. "Here, take this and leave. I don't ever want to see you in my territory again, _got it?_ " He said sharply.

Tommy snatched the photo and held it protectively to his chest, nodding quickly.

Neither of them moved for a moment, staring at each other in a wordless exchange. The gang leader had an almost fond smile on his face as he turned to walk away, "Stay alive out there, brat. Don't get caught by any more gangs."

"Yeah, fuck you too, bitch!" Tommy said despite the almost grin pulling at his lips.

You know what? Maybe it's for the best if Techno _doesn't_ try to understand their not-friendship.

Wilbur came up beside Techno and dumped the cape back onto him. “Tommy! Good to see you didn't die up there, man!"

Tommy turned, grin growing by nearly tenfold. “ _Eyy_ , big dubs! You know a dumb bird like that couldn't kill me!" He claimed. 

Wilbur laughed, "Yeah, I should hope so."

Techno exchanged a look with Phil. It was nice to hear Wilbur happy for a change.

Wilbur pat Tommy on the shoulder, "You know, that offer's still open if you want it."

_Offer_? Wait, what exactly did Wil offer this kid?

Well, whatever it was, Tommy looked pretty happy about it. " _Yes!_ Fuck yeah, let's go stab shit together!" The teen pumped his fist excitedly.

He heard Phil sigh exasperatedly, "Wilbur, explain?"

Wilbur paused for a moment before realization dawned on him. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you guys. I offered Tommy a spot in our group when we met at that music store, figured you'd both be okay with it," he admitted sheepishly.

Phil hummed consideringly, "Techno?"

If it made Wilbur happy, "I have no problems with it."

"Hell yeah! Now let's get the fuck out of here before one of those pigeons comes back for more," Wilbur advised.

They all simultaneously nodded in silent agreement. Phil was quick to take the lead, everyone else following close behind.

Wilbur and Tommy were chatting about nonsense, and though it may have been raining and smelled like bird shit, Techno had never felt more at peace in the post-apocalyptic hellhole of a home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure I've reread this three or four times for editing, but if I missed something, please tell me! Even one spelling error can mess up the entire flow.
> 
> And if I missed a trigger warning, let me know, I don't want to hurt anyone.
> 
> Bruuuh, that was a wild ride to write. Multiple rewrites of sections, completely scrapping ideas and having to rework things.
> 
> I almost gave up on this a few times, but I'm glad I persevered. And if you haven't noticed, I've put this into a series.
> 
> It's going to be short stories taking place in this universe, some remaining with sbi, but I've also got a nice handful of other minecraft cc's I'd like to write from the perspectives of. The next fic in the series is probably going to be an information fic, explaining a few things about the world, mutated animal descriptions, which cc's I'm likely to include as well as their group affiliations and appearance. Likely followed by a fic taking place from Bad's perspective after he runs off (no promises on if that'll actually be the next one, who knows which person I'll end up writing about)
> 
> I hope you'll consider sticking around to see how this AU plays out with me. (No pressure though, I don't really mind either way)
> 
> Also, if you're worried about there being too many oc's, don't fear, I dislike using them. I doubt there will be many appearances of people who aren't ccs. I mostly just needed them for this because no one else really fit into the roles that needed filling to write this fic.
> 
> Oh, yeah, I almost forgot to mention this. But I'll also be posting a bloopers and outtakes fic, where I'll be posting alternate routes this fic could have taken. I don't remember how many times I made a big change to the story, maybe two or three, but I just thought it'd be fun to show what could have been, because you don't always get things on the first try.
> 
> (This note is getting too long, but I wanted to add this) 
> 
> If you find yourself having trouble with a scene, here are a few things I do to try and help with that.
> 
> 1\. Is it really in character? Can you see or hear them doing these things?
> 
> 2\. Does the scene have a purpose?
> 
> 3\. Change the weather or setting, (It might not seem like much, but it helps a surprising amount)
> 
> 4\. Take a step back from the scene, make sure you've eaten and hydrated recently, go on a walk. Sometimes you've been writing for too long and you don't even realize that it's affecting the quality of your writing process.
> 
> Alright, I'll stop talking now. Thank you for reading, see you later!


End file.
